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it’s not you, then who the hell is doing this? You’re psychic, right? Can you help us?”

“My abilities don’t work like that, man. It’s not a magic trick, for fucksake. Ask Autumn. I don’t always get all the information,” Dominic says, jabbing a thumb my direction.

Wade looks my direction, but I hold both hands up. “Don’t bring me into this. I barely know how my powers work.”

“Can you try?” Wade pleads. “Someone is raising the dead and now they’re threatening me.”

“Look, I’ll see what I can do. But not now,” Dominic says, placing a hand on his door handle. “I have company.”

“I don’t have much time,” Wade begins.

Dominic opens the door to his bedroom and takes a step inside. “Kinda not my problem.” Without another word, he closes the door.

“Dammit,” Wade curses under his breath, glancing in my direction. “Sorry about all of this, Autumn. After what you said, I was so sure…”

I shake my head, reaching for his hand. “No, it’s my fault. I’m the one who brought up Dominic. Come on, let’s get out of here. We need to come up with another plan.”

Wade’s lips press into a thin line and he nods.

Without another word, I walk for the stairs, refusing to let go of Wade’s hand. Together we exit Dominic’s house, stepping down the icy steps and onto the driveway. The driveway, I now notice, has barely been snowplowed. Wade hops into the passenger seat and slams the door.

Lowering my head in defeat, I walk around to the driver’s side. When I reach the door, I glance back at Dominic’s house.

If it’s not him, then who?

Sighing to myself, I open the driver’s side door and slide inside. “So, what next? What do we do?” I say, closing the door and turning to face him. I’m a bundle of raw nerves, so I can’t even fathom how he must be feeling right now.

Wade’s jaw clenches and he shrugs. “What can I do? I have a dead grandpa trapped in your boathouse that I need to do something with pretty damn fast. And now, someone wants me to leave or he’ll basically end me. I’m pretty much stuck between a rock and a fucking mountain.”

Chapter 14

Confessions

If we can’t figure out who sent the text to Wade, does that mean he’ll leave Windhaven behind? Could he really do that, even if he’s innocent?

Taking a deep breath, I can’t help but wish my own powers were tied more to telepathy and not necromancy or talking to the dead. At least then, maybe I could do some good. Instead, I feel so useless.

“Autumn, before we head back to your place, I think we need to go to the police,” Wade finally says, cutting through the pregnant silence.

My gaze snaps over to him. “Are you serious?”

“What other choice do I have?” he says, clenching his jaw. “If I don’t go to the police with what I do know…and that video goes out, it’ll be too late. It’ll be framed however this asshat wants to frame it. Then, nothing will matter. The police—or anyone else, for that matter—won’t believe a word I have to say. My only chance is to turn over what I know before it bites me in the ass.”

My lips snap shut and a stab of guilt sweeps through me. His words bring me right back to my own inner dilemma with what happened with Colton. He’s a hell of a lot braver than I am, that’s for sure.

“All right,” I say, driving past the turn to Blackwood Manor and heading into town. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Wade inhales sharply, reaching for my hand. “So do I.”

We drive the next few minutes in silence; neither one of us wanting to convince the other of a different plan. As much as I hate to admit it, this feels right. If Wade can get to the police first, telling them what he knows, he stands a chance. Maybe we could completely disarm the situation.

As we reach the edge of town, my back begins to tighten and I find myself sitting up straighter in the seat. “So, we’re almost there. Have you thought about what you want to say?”

Wade nods. “It’s all I’ve been doing since we left.”

“Good. What do you want me to do?” I say, turning down Main Street and heading to the town square.

“Nothing. Let me do all the talking. Okay?” he says, running his hand over his mouth. “I don’t want to pull you into this at all, if I can help it. Deal?”

“But—”

“Promise me,” Wade says, cutting me off. His eyes plead with mine.

I nod. “Okay.”

My pulse quickens as I pull up to the police station, parking in one of the diagonal spaces right outside the front entrance. The visitor parking is practically vacant, but there are six police cars lined up around the corner. For such a small town, it seems a little like overkill at the precinct.

“Wonder why there are so many cop cars,” I mutter, putting Blue into park.

Wade’s eyebrows tug inward as his gaze sweeps over them. “Let’s hope the fact that they’re here is good news. It means there isn’t reason to be out and about.”

I nod, kicking open my door. “Good point.”

Opening his own door, Wade follows me. When we reach the sidewalk, he steps out in front, making sure he’s first to the door. He pulls it back, allowing me to head inside first. As soon as the door closes, he takes the lead again, walking up to the glass-enclosed front desk.

A woman with dark skin and big brown eyes looks up. She’s barely older than we are, but she holds her shoulders back in an air of authority as we both approach. Her name badge reads “Thompson.”

“May I help you?” Officer Thompson asks, her voice soft and almost musical.

Wade swallows hard, tipping his chin. “Yeah, uh—is Sheriff Gordon here, by chance?”

“He is. Can I tell him who’s asking?” she says, her dark eyebrows barely moving.

Clearing his throat,

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